


Fata Morgana

by BigScaryDinos



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Josh, Complete, Denial of Feelings, Dirty Thoughts, Drinking, Guilt, Hook-Up, How Do I Tag, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, No Plot/Plotless, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Top Tyler, maybe spelling errors?, was suppose to be a one shot but then I made another chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-28 10:38:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11416173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigScaryDinos/pseuds/BigScaryDinos
Summary: Josh thinks about Tyler. Tyler thinks about Josh. The solution? Drink too much and meet me in the bathroom.ORThis all started because I may have a Josh Dun jerking off kink. Sorry I'm not sorry.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Much like everything in his life Josh hadn't actually meant to start masturbating with Tyler still in the room. It was mostly accidental. He was on autopilot, at least that was what he claimed had happened. Or would claim if Tyler asked and it wasn't such a lie.

 

Tour life is different than real life. Tour life is like a strange cocktail of summer camp, Disney World, and living in your first apartment all mixed together. The days are long, the nights are long, sleep is hard to get, privacy is even harder. Most nights they had the bus, then they had gotten just a little bit bigger and now they had a bus each, but even that was different. Tyler had turned his back room into a recording space for demos and ended up on the floor, his couch, or Josh's bed most bus nights.  They both hated the bunks that came with the buses. They were so small and cramped. Tyler called them coffins on wheels and Josh never thought to fight him on the subject. It was pretty fitting, to lie still in such a little box in the dark.

 

Hotel nights were the best. They were the things they had looked forward to most during the van days and still were. There was something special about pulling up into a new city, a new hotel, fresh towels and the promise of clean sheets. They could swim in the pool, order room service, shower in a place that wasn't a truck stop. Tonight was a hotel night. The excitement in the air as they had pulled into the parking lot was almost physical.

 

The bigger they got the more rooms they needed, more crew, more staff, more friends and family. While they used to need two or three max now they needed a whole floor cleared out for them. They needed twelve, thirteen rooms. They needed suites, they needed on site staff. Before they could just order two rooms for the night when they found a vacancy and counted the pennies under the seat cushions. Now they had to call ahead and make down payments.

 

Tonight wasn't so bad, mid tour was when they were at the lowest. Family at home, crew splitting to different hotels and bars and motels and B&Bs.

 

Tyler and Josh assumed they were getting one room, two beds. It's how life played out almost all the time. In the vans days it was because of money, during the bus days it was because they missed some parts of the van days. Instead they had two rooms with queen sized beds in each. It wasn't much of a big deal nor a bad one at that, but with too much time apart and only one door with a flimsy lock between the two Tyler had ended up coming in and laying on Josh's bed anyways. As much as they could get on each other's nerves and sometimes need the time apart they more often than not just wandered into each other's space. Ty never even asked, just opened the door and walked in as Josh was plugging his phone charger into the wall.

 

Life was pretty good, Tyler with his head on Josh's pillows and feet by Josh's head. Josh leaned off the bed, letting all the blood pool someplace near the base of his nose. He squinted his eyes and watched the TV upside down.

 

Tyler flipped through the unfamiliar channel listing until he stopped on some local public access. The news crew was talking about a parade, a high school, the show tomorrow night. Josh watched the way the mouths moved from his new angle and tried to lip read. His stomach felt sea sick while Tyler rocked the bed gently with his movements.

 

This was when he felt most comfortable, not on stage for sure but instead when he was just here, his favorite stained sweatpants and his wrinkled up NASA shirt and Ty sitting cross legged in his basketball shorts and an ugly ripped band hoodie. Tyler got up, opened two bottles of Mike's then sat back on the bed, flipped the channels to cartoon network and watched a few minutes of Teen Titans.

 

"It was better before the reboot." He said to nobody in particular with his lips around the bottle. He took a swallow, holding onto the one he'd opened for Josh who snorted and felt puke almost rise in his throat. He sat up instead and took the bottle to wash the taste down. He set it on the carpet and laid back down, head on the end of the bed this time. "So, tonight. Find anybody yet?" Tyler asked, his thumb hovering over the remotes buttons, itching to press them.

 

It had been a rule for years, probably the only real rule they still followed to the letter. New city, new band. If they were off they had to go see somebody they'd never heard of. You can't say you support local music and never show up at the door. You've gotta put in the work and they both loved seeing new faces, hearing new songs.

 

Tonight three different unheard ofs were playing at three small venues that Josh had found while they were still on the bus waiting to get checked in. Usually they picked the show based on band name or the google image pictures of the venue.  Josh had wanted some venue that had been an old radio station and only fit about a hundred people at most. Tyler was more interested in the band playing at a regular bar but had some weird name like Kitten Explosion Party. _They sound like so much fun._ Tyler giggled when Josh had shown him.  The idea of exploding kittens had turned Josh's stomach sour and he wanted no part in whatever they were like.

 

It has been casual when Josh slipped his hand under his waist band and ran his fingers through the dark curly hair that grew there. Tyler didn't notice and if he did he didn't say anything about it. He clicked the buttons on the remote and watched three seconds of South Park, then ten seconds of a cooking show with some rude British host, seven seconds of Cops.

 

They agreed on the third choice, impartial and middle ground at a bar the size of the room they were in now. Four bands would be playing at a twenty one and up show for the low, low price of ten dollars per person. None of the band names really popped off the paper and google images didn't deliver stunning snapshots. That was okay, that's how they found some of their personal favorites. Josh idly thought about his growing collection of small band shirts back at his apartment.

 

Small venues made them both feel like they were home even if they were miles away. There was something magical about standing by the sound booth watching some kids try to make it, struggling and putting everything they had out there for then few people who would show up. Doors opened at eight and the show started at nine. It was some time around six if Josh guessed right. The TV clicked off, the room crackled with a tension filled static, the white noise Tyler loved.

 

“Gonna take a shower.” Tyler said, getting up and moving to the door. Josh stayed put with his hands on his warm skin. The door opened, shut. Josh lay with his head at the foot of the bed watching the door as he slid his hand lower almost without thinking about it. No underwear were needed for his favorite sweats. Just the comfortable fabric and he gently palmed his half hard dick. The sensation of it all brought him back, his toes curled in anticipation, his eyes half lidded and he wondered if Ty had even taken his hand off his side of the door yet.

 

It was weird, all the feelings and emotions and thoughts that ran through his head. It was an ever spinning kaleidoscope. Touring helped it and hurt him in different ways. While he was on tour he was busy, he was always running, always moving. He didn't have time to stop and think about why he was jerking off in his bunk at night, just did it and rolled over to sleep. When he had time like this it was totally different. He had to acknowledge the thoughts that permeated his head. Or he didn't. He could always just let his body do what it wants and he could just try to tune out.

 

The sun slanted through the blinds, hazy through the clouds. He looked at the ceiling and found the smoke alarm directly above his head. He watched the soft red beeping dot, off and on. Off and on. Off. His palm curled into a fist. On.

 

Somewhere outside kids screamed and splashed in the hotel pool. A car honked and in the other room the shower kicked on. He could hear through the thin walls the sound of hot water hitting the tiles. His air conditioner turned on and hummed into his ear, his hand continued. He thumbed the head of his cock. The red dot above him watched like an eye. It was like Tyler's eyes, he thought then faded it out.

 

Mist cleared from his mind, the door wasn't even locked, he thought bringing his unoccupied hand to his neck. He felt his thready pulse with his fingers, pressed down on it. Tyler could conceivably walk in at any second looking for body wash or a towel or his shoes or nothing at all. The light flipped on then off. His heart beat wildly, he dropped his hand to the sheets, picking up his pace and clutching at the white sheet between his damp fingers.

 

Tyler could walk in right now and sit on the edge of the bed. Tyler's hand could wrap around his cock instead of his own. Tyler could turn away totally disgusted, he could shut the door and let Josh have his ten seconds of peace, or he could let Josh come in his mouth.  Possibilities were endless.

 

His eyes focused on the white popcorn ceiling as he tried not to moan. He stifled his raw gasps inside his mouth.  He swallowed everything he wanted to scream. He listened to the water running through the walls. Thin as butterfly wings. He sucked in air through his open mouth, kept it inside his lungs until it burned. He tried not to think about who was in the shower. He tried not to hear Ty humming under the downpour. Tried not to think any weird off colored thoughts about the tan abdomen he could be touching, kissing, biting right now. He could taste the shower water in his mouth, the sweet soapy bubbles on his tongue and hear Tyler's laugh - high and wild bouncing inside the bathroom turning to breathy gasps.

 

They key to a successful hotel stay when you are the biggest band in the world is to stay were people aren't looking. Don't stay at the Hilton one block down from the arena you sold out. You won't get a second of peace. You'll never get down to the pool, you'll never be able to eat the complimentary breakfast buffet, you'll never see much of anything because everyone will know. The key is to rent rooms in a Motel Six 45 minutes away.  If you're bigger than Jesus everyone is looking for you. A town or two over is nice and shitty hotels are nicer. You need a room that is clean but it's best if it's not classy. Paying extra for the wifi password helps.

 

Everyone who knows who you are will be two towns away waiting for you to take the stage in a few hours. You'll be free just for a little while.

 

Josh panted, his calves cramp as he overworks his cock and makes a mental note to drink more water. His toes and fingers curl tighter.  The muscles in his back spasm and he arches off the bed into his fist. The light blinks on and off. On. Then off.

 

In the next room the water stops, it's quite and he's coming - hard.  He grunts softly and turns his head to the side, his eyes lock on the doorknob as his fingers get drenched and sticky. The brassy reflection is like porn while he tries not to be too loud, trying to stretch the last seconds of his orgasm out.

 

The key to successfully jacking yourself off on tour is do it when the singer isn't looking.

 

Josh isn't even sweaty by the time Tyler comes back, wearing dark jeans and a dark hoodie that hides him well. He's got oversized sunglasses on and he's just a shadow. Josh is wearing much the same but with fake looking glasses, and an oversized beanie to cover his hair. As long as they hang out in the back nobody will notice them, they'll just blend into the scenery. It's a game they play a lot and one day they'll get caught, but tonight Josh has a good feeling.

 

“I'm ready.” Tyler says.

 

“Me too.” Josh agrees.

 

The smoke alarm light blinks on then off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the Josh bit thinking it would be a one and done (or dun? hahahaha kill meeeee) but here's Ty's side because why not? It's a Sunday? Sort of?

 

 

Josh thought he was slick - he wasn’t. The spoiler to the end of the book, the scene before the credits, the afterward and final soliloquy was that Joshua William Dun would never pull a fast one on Tyler. It was impossible. Tyler wasn't saying he was smarter, it was just he was more observant. He noticed the little things, all the little moments and secrets Josh thought he had but spread right across the floor in front of Tyler and the entire world.   


 

The key to an tirelessly frustrating relationship was to pretend like you’re not looking.  

 

Hotel days were the best, undeniably no matter how many people they had to fit into the beds. Ty would say he’d spent more nights in the same bed with Mark and Josh than he ever had with his wife. It was just how things worked and he usually was sandwiched between the two of them. Even with Josh’s sweaty armpits in his face and Mark’s bare thighs pressed over his he’d say a thankful prayer they at least weren’t in the van. The air would only half work, the neighbors would be fucking so loud Tyler felt like he should be paying them for the show and the TV would only get HSN but it was so much nicer than sleeping on the van floor covered in old candy wrappers and damp tissues.   


 

The bigger they got the better the hotel nights. Soon enough they were upgrading and Ty only had to share a bed with one person. Then he had a bed of his own. His air worked just fine. His TV got about one hundred channels. His only neighbor was Josh. 

 

Ty sat with his feet on the bed, bouncing his heels up and down and sipping from his Mike’s. His phone buzzed with texts on the bedside table. He assumed it was Mark and ignored it to instead watch Josh almost pass out half upside down. Whenever he moved Tyler jerked his eyes back to the TV as if the local stations were that interesting. He switched to cartoon network just for something to do.   


 

"It was better before the reboot." He stated blandly, trying to distract himself from Josh who sat still and watched the TV through his upside down world. He had gotten a bottle for him, but upside down he’d just end up waterboarding the poor drummer so he held it in his hand waiting instead. Josh snorted, or something similar and sat ram rod straight in the bed, at first grabbing at his nose then changing his mind and finally accepting the bottle Tyler held out. He took a long pull as his nose twitched. The way his face creased up, the way his nose looked, even his fucking fingers - Tyler wondered if Josh knew what he was doing or if he’d just developed this over sexualized version of everything. 

 

Josh was a lot like the innocent babysitter fantasy people write to penthouse about. Of course he knows what sex is. Of course he’s the owner of a handful of filthy thoughts, but they’re probably generic and come from late night HBO TV. He's the kind of person who needs assistance in his imagination and Tyler, playing the role of older gentleman looking for a babysitter is willing to supply the story lines and prompts. There is no way he knows that just the way his eyes crinkle around the edges when he grins is like rapid acting poison to anyone in a ten mile radius. Tyler is a firm believer if you look directly at him when he bites his lip you might get pregnant. There is no way Josh would know almost everything he does is like watching a live stream of Pornhub. Josh just doesn't understand, otherwise he'd save it for special moments and not just anyone who looks at him.   


 

Ty tries not to think about it. His fingers hover over the remote and he watches the screen in front of them. He can't tell you what's going on, isn't listening or watching or paying any kind of attention to it at all.   


 

"So, tonight. Find anybody yet?" It’s the best kind of distraction, something they can both get behind and consider and talk about instead of just looking at each other. It almost works and for a few minutes they continue the conversation they’d had on the bus. Bands they’ve never heard of, venues they’ve never seen. 

 

Tyler understands that every band was a local band once. He wants to find as many as he can and collect them, even if he can’t tell them he’s there. Even if they hate his music. Even if it doesn’t matter at the end of the day. It’s like an obsession, to see as much as he can with his eyes wide and his ears open. He wants to take in every scream. He feels the best when the floor is vibrating and people are clapping off beat and the guitar is slightly out of tune and you can’t tell if the singer is crying or just sweating _that bad_. It's nice to lose yourself in a moment. It makes him remember when things were different. He would never say easier, he's reminiscing but not stupid. Now they don't _need_ to do anything but show up and play the songs. They don't have to load equipment or sell merch. They don't have to panhandle for gas money or beg bar owners for another five minutes on the stage. He's happy it's easier but now and again he misses it the way he imagines an amputee would miss a limb.   


 

They are still talking about bands, going back and forth for a few minutes when Josh tilts back to his spot and his hands casually slip into his pants. 

 

_You fucker._ Tyler curses, knowing Josh isn’t exactly doing anything, just resting his hands there. It doesn’t even seem like he knows what he’s doing, and instead of saying a word they just watch TV in the quiet that falls in the room. It's too silent, too forced at least on Tyler's end and it takes all the effort he's got in his body to keep his eyes locked on anything in the room that isn't Josh and to pretend to act natural.   


 

It’s easier to just pretend it’s not happening, but it’s harder to look away and Ty can’t seem to watch any show for any length of time. He rapid fires through the channels catching seconds of shows he could care less about. 

 

Most people don’t feel their tongue sitting in their mouth. They don’t have to remember to breath. They don’t get reminded to blink their eyes. It’s all natural, until you notice it. When you talk about it that’s when you can’t stop noticing those things. You become acutely aware of how dry your eyes are, how very fat and heavy your tongue is. How it takes up too much room and doesn't sit well anywhere in your mouth. How your lungs burn if you don’t tell them to work. 

 

That was Josh. If you sat on the bed with his face down by your toes and your eyes on the flat-screen you might never notice him, but once you see him you can’t stop. Your ears only hear his soft inhales and exhales. You feel the creak of the bed with every miniature movement he makes. Your body is electric when his leg grazes against yours and it’s only a matter of time. 

 

“Gonna take a shower.” Tyler says unable to stand it. The room. The tension. The entire situation as the TV clicks off. He stands, he walks to the door and the key here is to not look back. You can never look back. Tyler, as he tries to hide his own growing erection attempts to think of the Bible and turning into pillars of salt. Can only imagine Josh trying to explain to the crew what happen. Could picture him taking to Twitter to tell in 120 characters that the singer has dissolved on the carpet into a fluffy pile of sodium.   


 

He barely gets through the door and half collapses against the wood only slightly afraid that it might break down. Cold sweat covers his legs and a shower might be a very good idea. If he presses his ear against the door he can hear the soft rustle of hands against soft fabric. A suppressed moan. He could literally take his phone and throw in headphones. He could watch a movie or listen to music or take a nap with ear plugs pressed so deeply he'd need help getting them out. But he doesn't. He listens to the noises coming through the door and thin walls.   


 

If Tyler could he would change things, change the whole situation. He would never have left. In his mind can see himself pulling down the sweatpants he borrows at least once a week. He could imagine the way they would look stretched around Josh’s ankles and he’d sit right between his bare thighs like he belonged there his whole life. 

 

The key to keeping a band together with your best friend is to understand these feelings happen. The key to being successful was pushing the feelings somewhere they couldn’t rear their ugly and unwanted heads. It was far too dangerous to take the chance, wanted or unwanted and risk everything falling apart. Relationships were too much of a gamble.   


  
  


The bathroom was small and pea soup green. It was one of the ugliest bathrooms Ty had the pleasure of seeing in the past two years. If he looked too long he might even smell the ham chunks floating around in the soup pot. He turned the shower on and let it heat up as he stripped off his jeans. 

 

His underwear, shirt, socks thrown off to the side of the toilet and out of his way. He spent too much time setting his body wash just so on the lip of the tub, folding the towel just right. He was trying to distract himself  and it wasn't even close to working.   


 

He heard a sharp gasp from the other room. He stepped into the shower shutting the curtain as if he could block out any more sounds.

 

Fucking Joshua William Dun. That motherfucker. Ty rubbed his eyes raw, cranked the shower as high as he could until his skin turned red under the assault. He turned his back to the water and let it hit him and he tried not to think about how Josh’s cock had to look just ten feet away from him right now. He wanted to concentrate instead on how raw his skin felt.   


 

The key to pushing those feelings down is that sometimes you need to take care of them yourself. 

 

He ran his soapy hands over his stomach, his chest. He wanted to ignore the throbbing inside his gut. He wanted to wish the hardness between his legs away but much like the song says, you can’t always get what you want, and instead he ended up with his hands soft and bubbly stroking himself. It was fine, totally normal and he let his mind blank. He didn’t really think of much of anything at all at first, just the feelings. He focused on just being a guy who needed to get off.   


 

It was the heat, the stuffy overbearing humidity of the cramped room, his slick fingers tugging the skin at the base of his cock and if he moved it just right he could make his eyes roll to the back of his skull. And he did. He wasn't a big believer in waiting, didn't want to make the moment last longer than it had to.   


 

He wondered what Josh was doing. _Knew_ what he was doing, but instead wondered the specifics. His hand worked, slicking over the head of his dick quickly. The water was already beginning to get lukewarm. He wondered if anybody had ever bothered to show his friend the beauty of lending their mouth to his balls. Wondered what he would say if Tyler just so happened to walk in right now and show him a few things he’d only seen on the internet. How amazing it could feel  with a tongue buried in your ass and a warm wet hand on your cock. 

 

It was working and soon enough Ty felt the heat that had previously been encompassing him in the shower slowly growing inside his stomach, spreading to his legs, his chest. With or without the thoughts that were turning his face red he welcomed the delicious heat with his eyes shut and Josh's moans echoing inside his head like a song on repeat.   


 

He wanted to see Josh’s face when he came. God he’d give up anything to see it. He’d heard it so many times he could emulate the noise and he tried so hard not to make a sound as he let himself slide against the tile, his body leaving a Tyler shaped wet print on the green. 

 

He came quicker than he thought he would feeling less clean than he had before he had stepped into the shower but couldn’t justify staying in the continuously cooling shower any longer. He turned off the water and heard the familiar choked moan in the other room, a low groan stifled probably into his hand. Silence. He couldn't seem to shake the redness from him, hoping he could pass it off as the water being too warm if Josh asked.   


 

Josh never asked questions though. 

 

Ty’s air conditioner kicked on. 

 

They key to pretending you were happy was pretending everything was okay. 

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The key to writing a third part to what should have been a one shot is to get comments from marsakat. Just sayin'. POV switches so fast you might need a neck brace. Sorry ya'll.

 

 

 

It’s way too dark inside the Black Bear. Josh almost wants to drop off a check as a donation to pay the light bill, at least the music is loud. Loud enough to drown out his mind and all his thoughts. Not like he’s had many. He’s been running on auto most of the day. Which is a good thing for sure since the few thoughts he’s had have been unfavorable. He would rather ignore them and concentrate on the drums instead. If he can't play at least he can live vicariously through the kid on stage who seems too young to have made it through the front door.   


 

Tyler makes his way back to where Josh is standing, back to the wall and eyes trained on the stage, his hands mindlessly copying the rhythm of the song.  

 

“What is it?” He tries to ask, accepting the pale drink foaming inside the clear plastic from Ty’s offering hand. The singer doesn’t seem to understand the question and offers a noncommittal shrug. The first band had just finished and the static noise of people’s conversations and radio music fills the small space. An ad blasts in stereo about a local car dealer. 

 

“Past ten I think.” Tyler says loudly. Josh raises an eyebrow, then changes his mind and offers a smile, takes a sip. It’s some kind of sour beer, Ty takes a tentative taste and his face scrunches up like he’s just eaten a whole lemon.  Josh doesn’t laugh but his grin widens. It’s too dark to tell, especially with his fake thick glasses covering most of his face. They exist in a comfortable silence only people who know each other as well as they do can manage. Time passes much too quickly.   


 

The next band begins to play to faint clapping and hollering and Tyler takes his spot against the back wall, leaning and watching with his arms folded, occasionally sipping his drink. Josh’s eyes stay straight. He fixes his hat again with OCD precision, always afraid the colored strands will poke out and blow his cover. They don't.   


 

The band sings about hating their hometown. People rock from foot to foot on the floor in front of them, some clap, a girl who’s had a few too many lets out a high pitched screech at one point. A handful of people are singing along and it’s nice. Tyler bobs his head and Josh bounces along to the beat. When the song is over they both clap loudly and Josh cheers as if he knows these people personally. Nobody looks at them, nobody even cares. They're just two dark shadows lingering in the back of a busy room.   


 

The song wasn’t anything special but it fits a hole they both have inside their hearts. Tyler’s cup is empty by the end of the second song and soon enough Josh’s follows. It’s his turn to buy, but the terror of being IDed at the bar keeps him glued to his spot and so he hands Ty his twenty and lets him wander off, cutting through the throng of college students between them and the bartender. Josh never full takes his eyes off the back of Tyler's hooded head until he's back by his side.  

 

They repeat the pattern until the second band is done and the noise dims slightly. The door opens near them and both are hit with a gust of unexpected wind. It’s nice, neither fulling understanding how stuffy it got in the small room until then. 

 

It’s weird because when they go out normally they only share one or two drinks. A glass of beer. A cranberry and vodka. One shot. Neither should be drinking heavily, always side effects come from overindulging. Medications and alcohol don’t mix and besides, they’re not interested in getting drunk, it’s not their thing but tonight for some reason some private thing keeps pushing them to the cheap booze. They don’t talk about how they’ve both had five beers each which is three more than normal. For every cup one empties the other attempts to keep up.   


 

The key to making a drunk mistake is letting the comfortable buzz overwhelm you without fighting it. Just sip and smile.   


 

“I don’t get it,” Tyler leans into Josh’s ear, the shout a drone inside his ear like a mosquito. “Why do all these kids sing about hating their hometown?” His fingers cup around Josh’s ear, his lips occasionally gently making contact with the skin there. Josh shrugs, then turns and cups Ty’s ear under his hood. 

 

“‘Cause they never got out of it.” He thinks he sounds fine, if just a little slow. He lets his lips linger on the skin to return the favor and finds it warm. He forces himself away. He thinks of something else and begins to lean in only for Tyler to do the same. Their foreheads meet in an ungraceful bump. 

 

“Shithead.” Ty giggles, pulling back, his hands rubbing at what’s going to be an ugly knot between his eyes soon enough. Josh palms his own forehead and laughs at himself. They’ll have matching bruises for the show tomorrow and there will be no less than four articles on Altpress trying to figure out why. 

  
  


“There are gonna be like four articles - “

 

“On Altpress tomorrow.” Tyler finishes, all high pitched and flushed. The heat and beer and the night finally getting to him. Josh wonders if Tyler knows what he does, how he looks. There’s no way he could know the faces he makes or the way his voice gets overly loud and girlish. No idea what that could do to a person otherwise he would save it for the people that matter. Instead he wastes it in the back of the dark club looking at Josh’s sweaty face with the back of his neck stained yellow for what he assumes is the rest of his life. 

 

The third band comes on and people start to cheer and Josh can’t seem to move his eyes off Tyler’s face. To be fair he’s not moving either and the screams are all background noise. The music fades in and out and there’s nothing there and he doesn’t mind. It’s one of those split second choices that comes from left field. 

 

“Bathroom.” He says, over exaggerating his lips. He jerks his hand up and motions to where he assumes it is. Mentally he's still trying to catch up to his choice but Tyler seems to be way ahead of him.   


 

The key is to make the move when you’re drunk, you can play it off and say it either never happened or it’s all dark or it was a mistake. It’s risky. It’s your best shot. 

 

Tyler follows and they slice through the crowd easily, the crowd too involved in the indie rock in front of them to notice or care. Ty’s still clutching his last empty plastic cup in his clammy hand, a finger’s thickness of sour beer slops around inside. 

 

“‘Cuse me.” He shouts, following Josh to the opposite corner of the building and down the tiny hallway usually meant for bands. The bathroom door stands as a massive yellow barrier. Yield, it seems to say. Josh eyes it then pushes inside and lets it swing on its hinges. Tyler does the same, and is met with a strange mix of shadows and overly bright bathroom lights. 

 

Teeny tiny with two stalls and two urinals shrouded in darkness with a single bare bulb blindingly bright over the single sink. A cracked mirror forces the space into a labyrinth much larger than it is. Tyler burps, Josh giggles. The room feels like an oven. Tyler’s stomach feels sick, too much inside it threatening to come out all at once but maybe it’s not all just beer, maybe it’s nerves and something inside him that’s scared. 

 

The crowd cheers but it’s far away and Tyler hiccups. Shuts his eyes.   


 

The key is that when you get old you won’t regret things you’ve done, only things you haven’t done. Tyler is rarely haunted at night by the risks he’s taken. To climb and fall is a lesson learned but to sit on the ground and just look at the sky - well that’s what eats him up inside. 

 

So he presses himself so tightly against the body across from him, crushing his chest against the other. Something between them crunches. Josh gasps and Tyler presses his lips against his neck because it’s the first thing he finds. He feels fingers pressing into his chest and assumes it’s Josh’s signal to push him away, so he steps back trying not to feel rejection. 

 

Instead they’re just pressing him into a wall now, lips finally meeting lips and melding together with teeth clashing. The crunch returns and it’s the plastic cup his fingers are still clutching like a life preserver. The last splash of beer spills between them. He drops it to the ground and kicks it out of the way. 

 

Somebody moans, there are breathless whimpers and all they’re doing is fucking kissing for crying out loud, Josh thinks, pulling his head back from the moment. 

 

“You’re a shithead.” He whispers into the air. 

 

“Yeah, I know.” Tyler’s reply comes and something inside of Josh is having a seriously case of déjà vu. Dreams or nightmares or fantasies like water in a desert. 

 

“What’s that called?” Josh asks, out loud forgetting he’d only thought the first part inside his mind. 

 

“Hm?” They’re so close that they share the same breath. It's natural. It's nice.   


 

“When you see something that isn’t there, like water in a desert?” 

 

“Mirage.” Tyler says, his arms finding their home around the back of Josh’s neck, pulling him back in. 

 

“You’re my mirage.” Josh hums into his mouth, it’s slow and distorted. The wall behind them vibrates with bass lines.  It’s clear that Tyler wants to say something back, but he can’t with a tongue taking up the extra space inside his mouth. Josh’s fingers pull at the strings of his hoodie, tug at his clothes uselessly. Tyler fights back, pushing Josh against the sink, the automatic sensor going off and the cool water spewing against the back of the helpless drummer. He lets out a small distressed cry and Tyler collapses to his knees, near tears. 

 

They somehow end up in a stall with the span of time between spraying sinks and dirty toilets blurred. It’s darker there and all Josh can see is the wet outline of Tyler’s too red pout while he slides his hands up his hoodie, afraid to pull it off but even more afraid to leave it on he holds it up and reveals the tan skin underneath. 

 

It’s smooth and dark and just as delicious as he thought it would be when he sinks his teeth into the flash of his hips softly. Tyler’s high giggles turn to moans as he leans against the tiles and people clap. He sucks the skin in his mouth and leaves another bruise, blooming where nobody will ever see, away from the prying eyes of Altpress. Josh thinks it looks like a heart.   


 

Josh lost his hat somewhere in the move and now Tyler’s fingers are wrapping around the bright yellow strands of his hair, pulling them nearly out of his head. He feels like he's praying. Worshiping the only savior he needs in his life right now with his mouth.   


 

“Is this a happy ending?” Josh asks the hip bones in front of him, his eyes shut while he savors the moments. 

 

“I think we should get out of here, head home.” Tyler always does that, calls the hotel home even if they’re only in it for twelve hours. It’s a bad habit Josh picked up years ago and he nods his head in the dark stall, lips grazing the skin before him. “We’ll never leave if you keep going that.” Ty says, but it’s not argumentative. His hands don't want to let go of the hair he's clutching but he does anyway after a few more seconds.   


  
  


“We gotta make a run for it.” He agrees as Tyler tries fruitlessly to pat down the hair he’s pulled. The follicles are so dead they stand right up in the air at full attention, much like Josh’s dick right now - refusing to go down no matter what. 

 

They leave the bathroom in a hurry when they hear another song start and book it to the back door.  People stare. If for no other reason than two obviously drunk men running hand in hand through the bar one with crooked glasses and glowing hair and the other giggling and unable to run straight. 

  
  


They make it out the front door and into the street, the only blessing being the middle of the night. Nobody is on the roads and nobody is hanging around except two kids all in black too young to get into the bar, smoking and sulking. They see the two and make a move to speak but Josh and Tyler run across the road and down an alley, screeching like children. 

  
  


It all feels too familiar and Josh has sworn he’s seen this story before but with his belly full of beer it’s hard to remember much and instead he just lives in the moment and the heat of Tyler’s fingers and the way the wind kisses his face. 

 

They get lost twice and once so badly Tyler had to pull out his phone and goggle map where they are. Josh fell in a ditch at one point, adding to his new bruise collection. Tyler tripped over a cat who promptly hisses and disappeared down a different road. 

  
  


It’s sometime around one am when Josh stands on the double yellow line and screams to the stars that he’s finally happy. Tyler smiles and lets him. 

  
  


Once they get back to the hotel Josh stops at the doors to their rooms. 316 and 318, back to back. He quirks up an eyebrow, his head sloshy and asks as seductively as he can, “My place or yours?” 

 

“Yours of course.” 

 

-

  
  


The air is blasting full force and Tyler shutters on the bed finally in the spot he wanted. Josh’s thighs look perfect, all pale with dark hair and his fingers are spreading them apart so he can suck at the tender skin under his cock and Josh - well he’s dying with his head off the edge of the bed. 

 

“I’m gonna die.” He nearly yells and Tyler attempts to clamp his hand over his mouth without much success. He laughs and lets his lips linger. 

 

“No you’re not.” He mumbles with his mouth full, spit collects on the sheets under his lips and they both know they’ll sleep in Ty’s bed tonight. It’s okay though because this moment is too good to let go. He sucks and slurps obscenely and watches Josh’s bare neck turn tomato red. He wants to say something totally dirty that would cause the red to spread all the way down his chest. He wants to see how far the color can reach but he can’t manage anything witty. 

 

“Can I fuck you?” He asks instead, still with a mouthful of cock but it works and somewhere off the edge of the bed Josh nods. Fingers work from legs to ass and instead of sucking his digits he tongues the space he finds and can hear the air leave his friend’s body in one long gasp. 

 

“Did I ever tell you I hate you?” Josh asks, every word a different octave. 

 

Ty nods, his mouth occupied but only for a few seconds before he’s sitting up, pulling the drummer back onto the bed. His lips find the bare chest. They don’t need dirty talk, while he grazes above a nipple. 

 

“You keep it so cold in here.” Tyler sighs, one hand wrapped around Josh’s hips, the other pulled to his mouth. He slicks his own cock easily enough, precum dripping onto the sheets. 

 

“What would Altpress say about this?” 

 

“Don’t know. Probably something like ‘Who tops in TOP? The answer may surprise you.” It elicits a laugh and the body under him shakes. It’s funny how comfortable it all is. It’s lacking the weirdness of a one night stand. It’s missing the awkward moments, the stilted dialogue. It’s as comfortable as putting on an old favorite pair of sweatpants. 

 

When Tyler enters him, easily and slowly and stopping before Josh can even adapt it’s when it hits him like a brick. A whole ton of bricks actually.   


 

This isn’t new. This isn’t a dream and it’s happened before. It’s so familiar that it’s no wonder he didn’t remember before. Everything is still misty and all the motions, as wonderful as they are, are still far away. He wonders if Tyler feels the same. 

 

The key to keeping things new is to forget and forget and _forget_. 

 

Tyler rocks his hips and hits the right spot in a matter of seconds. It's a matter of knowing his body too well. Josh’s fingers find his back and dig in without malice and he wonders if anyone will see little half moon indents tomorrow night. He wonders which hotel they’ve fucked in. He wonders why he feels so guilty about it. It’s good though and Ty wraps one hand around his cock and strokes and it’s just the way he likes. Not too tight, with a half twist at the end. 

 

In Tyler’s day dreams he whispers the most disgusting suggestions into Josh’s ear but in the moment and with nothing stopping him he only moans his name and sighs. 

 

“Wish we could do this every night.” 

 

“We could,” 

 

“We could.” 

 

They won’t. But it’s okay because when you meld together for a minute the lies aren't lies. A headache begins to throb behind Ty’s eyes and he shuts them, holds onto the moment and he has no idea how much time has passed. No clue what day it is anymore.   


 

“Don’t stop,”  Josh whimpers into his own arm, slung over his face as he grinds himself down on the cock still invading his ass and Tyler didn’t even know he had stopped. Picks up his pace and twists his hips, reangles to find himself cursed inside his own déjà vu.  


 

“Gonna cum.” He says, no idea of his volume control. He could be broadcasting it to the world for all he cares but Josh just nods and brings his own hand down to his cock, leaking and desperately swollen between their bodies. Ty doesn't know when he stopped that either, his own hands holding tightly onto the pale body under him.   


 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Josh hums and Tyler isn’t sure why but he needs it - to hear the mantra again and again as he unloads and then Josh follows suit, cum staining the bed. Even with his eyes shut tight and his hand stroking himself long after he’s finished he’s still mouthing his prayer to himself. “It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

 

Tyler ends up in Josh’s grey sweatpants and ignores the stains. Josh ends up in Tyler’s basketball shorts. They both collapse in a nest of Tyler’s blankets the TV playing a true crime documentary. 

 

“Am I gonna remember this tomorrow?” Josh is still fuzzy and amazed at it. He really hasn’t had that much but it’s enough to make the whole night, even now, begin to fade away. Darkness starts to ebb into the corners of his memories. He can’t recall how the beer tasted, or what color the bathroom was. Tyler lays on his side of the bed, turned onto his side to look at his friend. Josh would give up everything to remember these moments, this night. He wants every detail committed to memory but finds himself already grasping at straws when he thinks about how they got home. The names of the bands that played.   


 

“Do we ever?” Tyler asks, and it’s a sad realization that no, neither will exactly remember. Stray memories will become dreamlike, the quality morphing into something neither can testify to being true. The next time they drink they’ll remember, then they’ll forget and the cycle will repeat with all the guilt of dirty thoughts, wandering hands, and wet dreams in between.   


 

The key is that falling asleep is like forcing a hard reset. You may not like it, but it’s needed. They key to keeping a band together is holding down the power off button to make it through another day. 

 

The truth is neither wants to forget, but both know they can’t risk remembering. 

 

“Night, Ty.” Josh buries his face in the pillows. Tomorrow he’ll remember something about feeling hungover and finding Tyler’s bed.  He’ll accept it. He always does. And Tyler will shower and wash away the weird dream he’s had. They'll forget how it felt, how each other tasted, how natural everything was. It'll become alien again. Until the next time. They'll eat breakfast and go to the venue and perform songs and fall asleep on separate buses.   


 

“Night, J.” Tyler pulls the blanket over his shoulders. Outside a car alarm beeps twice. In the next room the smoke detector blinks its red eye on. Then off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay. I would like to blame marsakat entirely for this one, cause she comments on just about everything I do ASKING FOR RESOLUTION. Like I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THAT, lol. But honestly this just started as one little one shot I wrote on vacation so when people say they like it I just get all happy and nonsense so I knew I had to write the grand finale. No, it's not exactly the happy ending we all want, but it's the resolution to the sexual tension I've created. Sorta? Hope you guys like it and let me know what you think! Thank you guys for reading!!!


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